"These seem mighty strong. It's queer how they broke."
"Well, there was quite a weight upon them," spoke Tom.
Ned did not reply for a moment. Then, as he looked at another piece of a severed cable, he exclaimed:
"Tom, the weight of your gun never broke these."
"What do you mean, Ned?"
"I mean that they were partly filed, or cut through—then the storm and the pressure of the gun did the rest. Look!"
He held out the piece of wire rope. There, on the end, could be seen several strands cleanly severed, as though a file or a hacksaw had been used.
"By Jove!" murmured Tom. He looked about the deck. There was no one near the big gun. "Ned," whispered his chum, "there's something wrong here. It's more of that conspiracy to defeat my aims. Don't say anything about this, and we'll keep our eyes open. We'll do a bit of detective work."
"The scoundrels!" exclaimed Ned. "I wish we knew who they were. General Waller isn't aboard, and what other of the officers has a gun of his own that he would rather see accepted by the government than yours?"
"None that I know of," replied Tom.